Another Song
by Elizabeth Moonstone
Summary: A collection of AUs. Second chapter : What if Hoster Tully had no son, only three daughters? (fem!Edmure) Third chapter: What if Joanna had told Tywin about Jaime and Cersei's relationship? Fourth chapter: What if women inherited first according to Andal customs? (Ned/Lysa, Catelyn/Stannis) Fifth chapter: What if Edmure hadn't delayed Tywin at the Fords? (Red Wedding fix-it)
1. Lysa has no stillbirths or miscarriages

**Lysa has no stillbirths or miscarriages  
**

Robb Stark and Minisa Arryn were born in Riverrun a few hours apart. They looked so much like each other, with their red hair and Tully features, that they could have been twins instead of cousins.

To have the two Tully sisters go into labour at the same time had been a nightmare both for the household of Riverrun and its Lord. The maester had to attend to both ladies at the same time. The memory of the girls' mother, who died in the bed of blood after many stillbirths, made everyone fear the worst.

In such conditions, it seemed almost a miracle than the two mothers and their children were healthy. Lord Tully had congratulated his daughters and hugged them both. Lysa had been moved by the sight of her usually serious father misty-eyed and trembling. _He wants what best for me, he does. My husband may be old but I will be Lady of the Eyrie and Minisa won't be a bastard. _

Her father had smiled at the name then carefully said that perhaps she should have given the babe an Arryn name, to please her Lord husband. _Lord Arryn can have my sons but Minisa is mine and mine alone._

However, if Lysa had learnt anything, it was that certain things ought not to be said to her Lord father.

"Lord Arryn and I will have many other children," she said instead. 'I will give our firstborn son an Arryn name."

"Of course, you will," her father patted her head gently.

At least, he was not angry with her for not giving Lord Arryn an heir. He even seemed fonder of Minisa than he was of Robb. After all, Minisa did look at lot like her namesake and Lord Hoster Tully had loved his wife. Lysa suspected that one of the reasons he favored Cat was that she had their mother's face.

§§§

Lysa arrived in King's Landing dressed in sky-blue velvet and adorned in silver, every inch Lady Arryn, wife to the Hand of the King. Minisa was cooing softly in her arms. Her daughter had grown strong and chubby on the road.

Her husband went to meet them almost immediately. Lysa was struck by how old he was, with his white hair and saggy jowls. Her Septa said all men were beautiful. _Find his beauty. Try. _Her husband was still strong and healthy in spite of his age. And he had rather nice warm brown eyes. They were also Minisa's eyes, which already endeared them to Lysa.

To Lord Arryn's credit, he did welcome Lysa warmly, kissing her on the cheek and inquiring about her journey. He also asked to hold Minisa. Lysa was surprised at the look of wonder on his face as he watched his daughter sleep.

"Are you not disappointed it's a girl, my Lord?"

"I never had the chance to be a father before. Any child is a blessing. Thank you, my Lady."

He bowed his head to her deeply and Lysa blushed.

§§§

Years passed and more children came. First, a boy, two years after Minisa. They named him Elbert, after the nephew Jon had loved and lost to the Mad King's folly.

Elbert was dark-haired, with his father's face and his mother's sky-blue eyes. If Jon had looked at his daughter in wonder, his expression when he had first beholden his son was deep pride. The future of House Arryn of the Eyrie was now secure.

Lysa looked at her son's future and saw her husband's past. Jon Arryn had once been a young and handsome knight. _If only he had been thirty years younger when we wed, I could have made him love me. _A younger man would have forgotten Lysa's fault when a proud, elderly man could not.

Oh, Jon was never unkind to her. He always made sure she was as comfortable and happy as possible. He even asked for her counsel and listened to her opinions. But he was never truly tender. _He cannot love a soiled woman. At least, he doesn't despise the children. _Jon was a wonderful father. The duties of the Hand of the King were staggering but he still took pains to spend time with Minisa and Elbert and clearly doted on them both.

Three years after Elbert, they had another girl, another dark-haired Arryn. She had very pretty forest-green eyes that intrigued Lysa and made Jon smile sadly. "My mother had the same eyes. Her name was Lessa and she was born a Lynderly of Snakewood." Lysa suggested they named the baby after her and Jon had watched with true gratefulness in his eyes. Her husband was always so very grateful. _He married me for my fertile womb and I have not failed to deliver. _

Such thoughts were a little unfair, perhaps. Jon was fond of her, as she was of him. They had grown comfortable with each other during these five years. They had the children, who they both loved immensely. It was not the best of marriages but it was far from the worst.

§§§

When she gave birth for the fourth time, Lysa thought she would die. The labor was longer and more painful and she lost a lot of blood. When they finally put her son in her arms, Lysa immediately knew something was wrong. The babe's arms and legs were spindly and his crying was no louder than the mewling of a kitten.

Soon, every servant in the Tower of the Hand was whispering than Lord Arryn's younger son was born weak and sickly. No one thought he would survive for long.

Lysa refused to give up. She was so afraid that her son would die in his sleep that she made him sleep in her bed and awoke at his slightest whimper. She tried to feed him as much as she could so he could grow stronger.

At first, Lysa had been confined to her bed to recover then she refused to leave it until her boy was better. The children wanted to see her and their new sibling but she kept them out. Minisa would jump on the bed and Elbert would want to hold his brother. The babe was too fragile to allow them in yet.

Jon came and pleaded with her to leave their son with a wet nurse for a few hours. Lysa refused. She had heard a few serving women whispering that it would be a "blessing" if the Hand's sickly son died quickly and peacefully. She couldn't trust anyone but herself with her son's care.

"Please, Lysa, come back to us. The children need you."

"Their brother needs me more."

Jon's voice broke.

"I need you too."

"Do you?" said Lysa with more venom that she had intended. "You already have an heir and two girls to spare. Why would you need me?"

Her husband looked pained.

"Do you think I only value you as the mother of my children?"

"Why would I think differently? I've seen you with the children, Jon, I've seen how much you love them but you've never shown such love to me! I'm only the soiled woman who you condescend to be kind to because she gave you the heirs you needed."

"Have you been thinking these things for nine years?" said Jon, alarmed. "Such a fool I've been. If only I had been more honest..."

He closed his eyes in pain.

"I know I'm an old decrepit man. I feared that, if I showed you too much affection, you would be embarrassed by it, even repulsed."

"What about my broken maidenhead? I know how proud and honorable you are. It must bother you."

"It did. I admit that, when I first wed you, I was apprehensive. But, every day of every year, you've proven me wrong. I fell in love with you, Lysa. I hid it because _I_ was feeling unworthy, of your beauty and your youth, not because I found you lacking. You've more than redeemed the mistake you made in your youth and it is nothing to me now."

"Oh, Jon, do you truly mean it?" asked Lysa with tears in her eyes.

"Of course I do. I'm sorry I've been such a poor husband to you."

"No, you were right," Lysa said, wiping her tears. "At the beginning of our wedding, I only saw you as an old man and I probably wouldn't have welcomed your affection. It was only after I saw your kindness and your love for the children that I wanted you to love me too."

"Lysa, you must trust me with our son. I will make sure he has the best care possible. I swear to you, no one will hurt him."

"I can't leave him. What if he dies and I'm not here?" Lysa burst into tears again. Her husband gathered her in his arms and let her cry on his shoulders.

"Our son won't die," he whispered in her ear. "He may be sickly but he is an Arryn and a Tully and he will endure."

Lysa was happy to hear real conviction in Jon's voice. _I'm not the only one to believe in our son. He has not given up on him either. _

Gently, she passed the sleeping boy to his father. She was glad to see Jon cradle him delicately.

"Have you named him yet?"

Lysa shook her head no.

"With your permission, I would call him Robert, for the strongest boy I ever raised. Our Robert will probably never be able to wield a war hammer but he will live to find his own strength."

§§§

Their Sweetrobin did live but Lysa had to part with a son nonetheless. Elbert turned eight and was sent to foster in Runestone. It tore Lysa's heart in two to see her son go but Jon had stressed how important it was for Elbert to spend time in the Vale. _"One day, soon perhaps, Elbert will be Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East. His people must know him and he must know them."_ Lysa had finally relented after Jon had promised her she could go and see Elbert as often as she wanted.

Lysa waited two years for Sweetrobin to be old and strong enough that she felt comfortable to leave him in King's Landing. Then she took the girls on a ship to Gulltown. It was a wonderful trip. Their first stop was, of course, Runestone to see Elbert and then the Eyrie so the girls could know their father's seat. But, once it was over, Lysa found herself strangely unwilling to go back. She missed Jon and her Sweetrobin but she hadn't seen her sister in twelve years.

Lysa had spent a lot of time in their youth resenting Cat for being older, more beautiful, more loved. Now that she was happy with Jon and the children, a lot of that bitterness was gone and Lysa remembered the best moments of their shared childhood, sun-baked afternoons spent swimming in the Tumblestones, nights of laugher and gossip. She missed her oldest sister, her friend and confidante. Of course, they had never stopped writing to each other but it was not the same. And there were the girls to think about too; they had never met their Stark cousins and were eager to visit Winterfell.

Thus Lysa found herself writing to her sister. Cat's answer was prompt and enthusiastic so they took another boat to White Harbor and then a wheelhouse to Winterfell.

Lysa did not like the North. She had lived all her life in Riverrun and King's Landing so it was simply too cold and desolate for her taste. However, the welcome they received in Winterfell more than made up in warmth for the climate. Cat embraced her tightly and kissed her on both cheeks. Eddard Stark greeted her with a courteous bow and a small smile but, after hearing a lot about him from Jon and reading even more from Cat, Lysa knew his frozen face hid a good heart.

As for the girls, they soon mingled together. Minisa liked pretty dresses and lemon cakes like Sansa but she lacked her cousin's sweetness and perfect manners. Jon and Lysa had been so happy to have a living child that they had spoilt her rotten. Minisa had grown wilful and headstrong, with terrible bouts of temper, but also bold and beautiful. She hated sewing, found it stupid and a waste of her time, and often shirked her lessons to play with Arya.

Lessa also spend time with both her cousins. Whether she was riding with Arya or sitting with Sansa, her company was always quiet and unobtrusive. The opposite of her brash sister, Lessa spoke little and preferred the world inside her own head to the world outside.

They stayed a long time in Winterfell, long enough to see Cat safely give birth to her fifth child, a boy named Rickon. Then, they left the happy Stark family to welcome their new member and returned to King's Landing.

All in all, they had been gone almost a year. Lysa found her Sweetrobin much changed. As her son was weak and prompt to fit of shaking sickness, he could not roughhouse with the other boys. To keep him happy and occupied, Jon had spent a lot of time with Sweetrobin, filling his evenings with stories and hiring a special tutor for him during the day. Not only the boy and his father had developed a special bond but her Sweetrobin's intellect had been sharpened by the experience. "The boy can never be a knight but, perhaps one day he will sit on the King's Council as Grand Maester," Jon said once to Lysa.

She had never loved her husband as much as in that instant. How many lesser men would have dismissed Robert, thinking him worth nothing because of the weakness of his arms and legs? Instead, Jon saw as much value in him as in his healthier siblings.

Unlike her father, her husband did not play favorite between his children. Minisa was his eldest darling girl, Elbert his heir, Lessa the sweet child who reminded of his mother and Sweetrobin his brave, clever boy and he loved them all equally.

§§§

Minisa flowered at two-and-ten and soon, the betrothal offers abounded.

There were many from Jon's bannermen and other minor Lords but also two from great Houses. These ones Lysa considered the most carefully.

The first came from Mace Tyrell, on behalf of his son and heir Willas. He was ten years older than Minisa and crippled. However, as Lysa's husband was forty years older than her and her son considered by some little better than a cripple, Willas's age or his bad leg were no concern of Lysa's. She had never met Willas and had heard little about him, mostly about his fine breeding of horses and dogs. He was said to be kind but Prince Joffrey was also said to be gallant. _Words are winds and appearances mean little and less. _

Minisa's second potential suitor, Prince Quentyn Martell, was even more of a mystery. All that Lysa knew about him, she had learnt from Doran Martell's letter: his son was four-and-ten and currently squiring for Lord Yronwood. As Quentyn had an older sister, he would never inherit Sunspear so, as far as lands and titles were concerned, Willas Tyrell was the better party. However, Minisa, with her headstrongness, would perhaps be happier in Dorne than in the Reach.

Lysa put back the two letters. Before anything was decided, Minisa would have to meet the young men at least once. Thankfully, they had plenty of time. If Lysa was honest of her, she wasn't ready to let go of her daughter yet. Minisa was still a child and she would stay with her for six more years at least.

With her daughter's flowering came something more unpleasant than letters.

Lysa and the children often dined with Petyr Baelish. Lysa's former love had risen fast and high with her help. His appointment as Master of Coin two years past had still come as a surprise though.

In the earliest, most unhappy years of her marriage, Lysa had often thought wistfully about Petyr. However, as her relationship with her husband warmed, these feelings had mostly faded away.

It had been strange, seeing Petyr again. She had grown so much from the girl that had once loved him in Riverrun. Still, Petyr remained dear to her and she thought he would always be.

She was wrong.

Petyr watched Minisa. Oh, he didn't stare or leer. His eyes were cold, weighing her daughter up like a morsel of meat.

Lysa knew who he was thinking of. Her younger self had been happy enough to fool herself into believing Petyr loved her but she knew better now. Petyr had loved Cat, still loved her so obsessively he searched for her in her twelve-year-old niece's face.

It chilled Lysa to the bones. Minisa was a child. He had no right to look at her like that, no right to think of her as a potential replacement for Cat. Minisa was her own person, as different from her aunt in character as she was similar in looks.

Lysa spoke to Jon about it. He was surprised but did not question her claims. _He blames himself for not noticing anything, the sweet man._

"I can't send him away. The need for his skill with money is too great. But I can make sure he will never see you or Minisa again."

Lysa nodded, relieved.

§§§

Something preyed on her husband's mind. It ate away at him but he refused to speak of it. He was afraid she would be in danger, if she knew. Lysa disagreed. Nothing could be more dangerous that walking blind. Jon had to admit she was right. He confessed to her, in a whisper, his suspicions about the Queen.

It was frightening, how much sense it made. The Queen's children had nothing Baratheon about them, not the eyes, not the hair, neither the strong jaws, nor the broad shoulders. They were wholly Lannister.

Lysa had liked the younger children, bright Myrcella and sweet Tommen. To think they had been born of the vilest of relationship... _Not just adultery, but incest. _Lysa pitied them but, mostly, she feared for Jon.

She urged him to tell everything to the King. The book, the bastards, they were proof of the Queen's adultery and her children's bastardy. The King would believe him.

"If I speak to Robert, he will have the Queen and the Kingslayer's head. How do think Tywin Lannister will react when his children are executed and his grandchildren called bastards? The man is proud, powerful, ruthless. He will claim that Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are the first blond Baratheons because the Lannister blood is simply strong in Cersei. That Robert invented everything to get rid of her. Who can prove him wrong? He will go to war for his grandchildren's claim and many will follow him."

"What if there was absolute proof of the Queen's adultery and incest? What if she was caught with her brother in the act?"

Jon looked at her attentively.

"It would make it impossible for anyone to defend her. But the Queen won't allow herself to be caught."

"Leave it to me."

"Lysa, you can't! It's too dangerous."

"I can. To keep us safe, I must."

"Then I should be doing it. I am the one putting this family in danger."

"Jon, we both you're too honorable to successfully execute such a scheme. But I am a Tully, and for me, family comes before everything, even honor. I will get you the proofs you need, even if I must bring the High Septon himself to the Queen's bedchambers."

* * *

**In my head, Lysa manages to catch Cersei, she and Jaime are executed, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen (Waters) become hostages to keep Tywin in check. Robert marries Margaery Tyrell and get to the business of fathering a trueborn son.**

**Everything seems well... but the Targaryen are across the Narrow Sea, determined to regain their throne, and the Lannister lion still has claws.**


	2. Hoster Tully has three daughters

**First, thanks to everyone for their kind reviews for the previous chapter, formerly posted as a one-shot called _The Seed is Strong_. **

**This is NOT a continuation but the rest of my collection of AUs. When there is twenty of them, you will be able to vote for your favorites. I will try to continue the three winners.  
**

* * *

**Hoster Tully has no son, only three daughters**

"They sure are a sight for sore eyes," Brandon whispered to his brother as they entered the Great Hall of Riverrun.

Ned glanced at his brother's impish smile and sighed. Brandon's attitude towards women could be frustrating sometimes but Ned had to admit he had a point. The Tully sisters standing next to each other did paint quite a lovely picture.

Lord Hoster Tully introduced each of his daughters to the Stark brothers. Lady Catelyn, the eldest in both birth and beauty, had been groomed as the future Lady of Riverrun ever since her mother's passing. Then came Lady Lysa, a shy, pretty maid of fourteen. The youngest girl, little Lady Edma, visibly had trouble not to fidget before her father's guests. She was but seven years old but you could already see she would grow up to be as lovely as her sisters.

People whispered than the gods had not been kind to Hoster Tully when they saw fit to bury his three sons into the ground and give him three daughters. Yet, Ned did not see how any man could consider Lord Tully cursed for fathering these three beauties.

At the welcoming feast, Ned was seated next to Catelyn, of course. He was a little bit intimidated at first. What did Hoster Tully's fair heiress think of marrying a plain-faced, second son? If Catelyn Tully was disappointed by what she saw, she hid it well and was courteous and kind. They managed to have a somewhat impersonal but pleasant conversation as Brandon flirted with Lysa Tully and made her blush as red as her hair.

As they were escorted to their chambers after the end of the feast, Brandon slipped to his brother:

"This is a very good match, brother. You get both the Riverlands and the prize of House Tully. I am quite jealous."

WhenLord Rickard Stark had written to Riverrun about a marriage alliance, he had asked for Catelyn's hand on _Brandon_'s behalf. It was Lord Hoster that had asked for Ned instead. _"Your eldest stands to inherit Winterfell. Catelyn can neither rule the Riverlands from the North, nor live separated from her own husband. However, your second son Lord Eddard is also quite close to Catelyn's age and could eventually settle with her in Riverrun." _Lord Rickard had promptly accepted and secured his son a glowing future as _de facto_ Lord of the Riverlands.

Paradoxically, the Lord of Winterfell had a lot more trouble finding a suitable wife for his heir than for his spare. Brandon had almost been betrothed to Elia Martell. The Princess of Dorne had visited Winterfell and had liked both his brother and the North. However, her fragile health was worsened by the cold climate and the Maester said that living in the North would endanger her life. She regretfully had to leave.

Ned had been sad to see her go. The Princess of Dorne had a kind heart and a sweet wit and Ned would have liked to have her as a goodsister. When he had learned that the King had refused Lady Cersei Lannister as a bride for Prince Rhaegar and instead chosen Princess Elia, Ned had been unable to suppress a smile. When Rickard Stark had written to Casterly Rock to inquire about Lady Cersei's hand, he had received nothing but a cold, haughty rebuttal.

However, it seemed the Lord of Winterfell had finally found a bride for Brandon. Lord Mace Tyrell had a maiden sister only a few years older than Brandon, Janna. Ned would stay in Riverrun for a while to get to know his betrothed as Brandon would ride to the Reach and hopefully meet his own.

"I am sure Lady Janna will be as lovely as Lady Catelyn."

"She better be", quipped Brandon. "Goodnight, Ned."

* * *

**I think Lady Edma Tully would grow up to be buxom, boisterous and a big flirt. I would probably make her end up with Jaime because I love crack pairings.**


	3. Joanna tells Tywin about Jaime and Cerse

**Joanna speaks to Tywin about their children's unnatural relationship**

"I moved Jaime's room at the opposite of the keep and placed a guard outside of Cersei's chamber. Yet, they did it again. It's not merely child play, Tywin."

"Incest is reviled in the sight of gods and men. If anyone were to learn about this, House Lannister would have to face far worse than the scorn we had to endure under my father."

Tywin's face had grown pale and his lips were pinched, like each time he worried about the honor of their House. Joanna laid a hand on her husband's shoulder and smiled as she felt some of the tension leave him.

"We can still fix this, Ty. The twins are only eight. They can easily forget about all of this, if we make them."

"They have to be separated."

Joanna nodded.

"I would keep Cersei with me. She's too young to go to court with you yet and I still have many things to teach her about being a Lady of House Lannister."

"I was thinking about sending Jaime to squire for Crakehall in a few years but I suppose I could send him a little early."

"It does no good sending Jaime away if he still obsesses over Cersei. What he needs is to spend time with another girl. If they are well-suited to each other, his affection for Cersei will pass to her."

"She would have to be his betrothed. I'm not having another Lannister ridicule himself with a commonborn whore."

"Then, let's find a maid worthy of the heir to Casterly Rock", smiled Joanna. "She has to be as old as Jaime, one or two years older at most, so they may grow up together. Highborn, of course; a daughter of a Great House would be best. A fair face would also suit us better."

Tywin Lannister answered his wife's smile with a small one of his own.

"There is only one maid that fit your description, Joanna. You might as well say her name."

"Catelyn Tully. You know it would be a good match."

"I have no objection towards the girl herself. However, I don't like the idea of Jaime being raised outside the Westerlands. If Jaime is fostered in Riverrun, Hoster Tully will become like a second father to him. Our son is a lion, not a trout, and I don't want him to become too much _Tully_."

"Jaime will always be a lion, no matter who raises him. Think about the advantages for our House, Ty. Edmure Tully would grow up looking up to Jaime as an older brother. This bond of friendship would be strengthened by Catelyn and Jaime's marriage. Send our son to Riverrun, and the Tully are ours."

Tywin had learnt from a very young age how to make people respect him but he often forgot that loyalty could be bought with other things than fear. It was part of Joanna's duty to remind her husband of that.

"I will write the letter," said Tywin. He knew she was right but Joanna could see he was still displeased.

"I will be loath to part with Jaime too," she said gently. "But soon we will have another son or daughter to dote upon," Joanna added, laying a hand on her heavily pregnant belly.

People would not call Tywin Lannister cold and ruthless if they could see the tender look on his face as he gazed upon his wife. But Tywin's softer side belonged to her and her alone. Joanna _liked_ it that way: she was a lion, and lions did not share.

* * *

**I wanted to set up an universe for Jaime/Cat but I ended writing Tywin/Joanna fluff instead... It made me wish Joanna had lived and kept Tywin from becoming his child-murdering abusive bastard canonic self. Perhaps I'll write another "Joanna lives!" AU.**

**Tywin and Joanna aside, this AU has pretty interesting possibilities : Jaime becoming BFFs with the Tullys and squiring with the Blackfish, a strong alliance between Tully and Lannister during Robert's Rebellion etc.**


	4. Andal women inherit first

**Here, female-preference primogeniture is a purely Andal custom. So :**

**The Iron Islands, the North and the Targaryens: male-preference primogeniture.**  
**The South minus Dorne : female-preference primogeniture.**  
**Dorne : equal primogeniture.**

**I hesitated a lot about the Targaryens. In the Valyrian freehold, both men and women could rule. However, if you look at Volantis, it seems women in power are a lot rarer than men. Furthermore, when the Targaryens fled to Dragonstone before the Doom, the title of Lord of Dragonstone went from father to son. Therefore, I decided that the Targaryens would keep their own custom of male-preference primogeniture.**

* * *

**The Andals practice female-preference primogeniture**

Robb was dead. He had been born so perfect, with a shock of Tully red hair and a handsome little Tully face, yet he had never drawn breath.

The maester had told Lysa that her sweet son had been dead in her womb. She could almost feel the bitter taste of tansy in her mouth. _Will I ever be able to hold a living child of mine in my arms? Has my father robbed me of that too?_

Her husband had just come back to Winterfell. Lysa knew she should have dressed and welcomed him in the yard but she had not the strength. She hadn't left her bed since her own arrival and her husband's people probably despised her. They would have loved Cat. She was the strong one, the heiress to Riverrun, and wed to the King's own brother. Lysa was the soiled woman that Eddard Stark had married for her father's swords.

_I never wanted him. I didn't want Brandon either, no matter how charming his smiles. All I wanted was Petyr but he only ever loved Cat. She enticed him away from me, with her smiles and dances, but she never loved him back. Not like I loved him. I comforted him when he was drunk and heartbroken over her. I gave him my maiden's gift... and he whispered "Cat" in my hair as he took it._

_I hate him. I hate them all. Petyr, Father, Cat, Eddard Stark. May they all burn in the Seven Hells._

Yet, when Eddard Stark had wed her in Riverrun, Lysa had been hopeful still. Her husband looked stern but his words and touch was gentle. He did not look at her with contempt for not being a maid. _I will give him a son and he will love me for sure_, Lysa had thought_. _She still believed her father's promises then, in spite of the tea. _Sweet sons and trueborn_, he had said. _Sweet sons and trueborn_, she thought bitterly, _when my Robb lies in his grave. _How could her husband ever love her now?

Her maid entered and told her that her husband wanted to see her. With a lazy wave of her hand, Lysa signalled the servant to let him through.

_They must have told him already. _Grief was plain on her husband's face and his dark grey eyes were a storm of pain. He sat on Lysa's bed and embraced her spontaneously.

"I am so sorry, my lady. I should have been there, I should have been with you."

In her husband's arms, Lysa felt a dam inside her breaking. Tears came unbidden to her eyes when she thought she no longer had tears to cry.

"I... I have failed you. I'm sorry."

Eddard looked at her in the eyes, as solemn as ever.

"Please do not think that, my lady. The... the gods are cruel sometimes. It's no one's fault."

He kissed her brow so gently that words she never thought she would say came tumbling out of Lysa's mouth.

"But it_ is_ my fault. My womb is ruined because of that tea. I swear, I didn't know what it was. I only drank what Father gave me."

Eddard Stark's brows furrowed.

"Did your father force you to drink moon tea?"

"Of course he did. Would you have wed me with a bastard in my belly?" replied Lysa bitterly.

Her husband's face flushed. Suddenly, he seemed to choke on his words:

"I have... erred too, my lady. I have... I have a bastard son. Conceived during the war. I... brought him here. Jon, his name is."

Lysa felt a fresh stab of pain in her heart. _Of course, he wasn't faithful to me._

"Bring him to me."

"My lady..."

"Show him to me," she said imperiously, her voice shrill.

Her husband sighed and came back with the boy. Lysa held her arms out and he gave him to her.

Jon Snow was a healthy boy, black of hair, with a solemn little Stark face. Whoever his mother was, he looked nothing like her. _He could have been mine, ours._

Jon opened his Stark grey eyes and peered at Lysa. He burrowed into her chest, looking for a teat. Lysa's breasts were full of useless milk so she freed one from her shift and gave it to Jon. He started sucking hungrily. It felt so right that all her anger fizzled out of her, replaced by crushing sadness. _He _should_ have been mine. Robb's dark-haired, stronger twin. Why isn't he mine?_

Tears started dripping slowly from Lysa's eyes, falling onto the babe in his arms.

Eddard Stark looked at her with tremendous pain in his eyes and blurted out:

"He is not mine. I cannot lie to you, not like this. Jon is Lyanna's son."

Lysa could only listen in astonishment as her husband told her of what he had found in the Tower of Joy.

"For his protection, the world must believe that Jon is my bastard. I am sorry for the shame this lie will brought you, my lady. But, if you could find it in your heart to love Jon..."

Lysa looked down at the boy in her arms. He looked nothing like Robb, but it was fine. Jon couldn't replace Robb, as Robb couldn't replace the first child he had lost.

"I don't know if I will ever be able to birth a living child," she said, and her voice sounded incredibly calm to her ears. "Your sister's son is perhaps the only heir you will ever have... and the only living child that I will ever held in my arms. Please, let me raise Jon as my own. The world will name him Snow but he will be our sweet son."

Her husband took them in his arms, her and their son both. He kissed her hair, her eyelids, her mouth and called her strong and kind. Called her Lysa, and not _my lady_. No matter how solemn his face was, Eddard Stark was a warm, loving man and he had given her hope again.

§§§

In the end, he had figured it out because of his children.

All of them had at least a little something that marked then as true Baratheons. Sansa looked wholly Tully from a distance but her eyes were dark blue, freckled with grey. Storm eyes, Catelyn called them. Shireen had her mother's delicate cheekbones and big Tully blue eyes but her father's strong jaw and black hair. As for Steffon... Steffon looked exactly like a younger Robert or Renly. Sometimes, it was hard to look at his son and feel something else besides bitterness.

_Storm's End should have been mine. I am Robert's oldest brother. _Yet, barely two days after his coronation, Robert had packed him up and sent him to the Riverlands to marry Hoster Tully's daughter.

Here, Robert had not cheated him at least. Catelyn was the eldest and fairest of the Tully daughters. Since the first day of their marriage, she had treated him with warmth and respect. The respect, Stannis was used to – he had proved his worth by holding Storm End's for Robert against all odds – but the affection had surprised him. It had brought back dim memories of his parents before the sea had claimed them.

Catelyn was good Lady and a good wife. She was sensible, dutiful and, most of all, true. His own brothers loved him little but Catelyn was different. He could no more doubt her feelings for him than he could doubt his own.

He had he not gone far beyond what duty required of him? He had given Catelyn not just Sansa but Shireen and Steffon too. _And I will give her another child._ He knew Catelyn wanted one. Another daughter or perhaps a little boy to play with Steffon.

In sharp contrast with his marriage to Catelyn, Robert and Cersei Lannister's union had proven to be completely devoid of affection. And also devoid of any trueborn children, if his suspicions were true.

He had voiced them to Catelyn and she had urged him to be cautious.

"The Lannisters have far too much power at court. You mustn't go to the King's with anything less than absolute proof of the Queen's adultery."

"It must come from Jon Arryn. Robert wouldn't believe it from me."

His wife had sighed.

"Your brother does not doubt your loyalty, Stannis. Still, it's better if it comes from Jon Arryn. Even if the King knows that you aren't after his throne, the Lannisters will still call you a liar and a usurper."

So Jon Arryn and he had started to carefully collect evidence. However, before any of it could be presented to the King, Arryn had died of a bad belly. The old man had been strong and healthy before his unexpected death so he had probably been silenced by the Lannisters.

And now Robert was going North, not to offer him the Handship but to give it to Ned Stark.

"The Lannisters were bold enough to murder Jon Arryn. The time for caution has passed. You must tell your brother everything now."

"Why should I? Robert will have the help of his _truest_ brother."

"Ned Stark isn't Robert's brother. He is yours, by the bonds of marriage," said Catelyn sternly. "You know he has never played the game of thrones. The Lannisters will eat him alive."

"Better him that us."

"We can join the King's party on the kingsroad. I often go to Winterfell to visit Lysa and it's been sometimes since I had the pleasure of seeing my goodbrother the King," said Catelyn with a wry smile. "Once we're in Winterfell, you can tell the King and Ned Stark the truth. The Queen will be far away from her power base and surrounded by loyal Northmen. It'll be our best bet."

"I still have no proof to give to Robert. He'll laugh in my face."

"He won't", said his wife sadly. "Your brother doesn't like you – you are too different for that – but he does love you."

"Really? You would never guess by the way he treats me."

Catelyn laid her hands on his shoulders and Stannis felt some tension leeching out of him.

"Your brother is a fat fool," said Catelyn who always spoke to her husband as bluntly as he spoke to her. "But his feelings for you matters little in this affair. What is truly important is his hatred towards his Queen. He won't have any trouble believing she betrayed him. Then, _he_ will gather the evidence."

* * *

**The Realm in this verse:**  
**Ned Stark is the Lord of Winterfell. His heir is his legitimized bastard, Jon Stark. Since Lysa raised the boy as her own, it's easy to forget Jon was ever a bastard.**  
**After a lot of stillbirths and miscarriages, Lysa gave birth to Arya and Bran. Arya is her canon self, except Lysa indulges her a lot more than Cat. Bran has his canon personnality but a very frail health.**

**Harrold Arryn is the Lord of the Eyrie, as the sole surviving grandchild of Lady Alys Arryn.**

**Genna Lannister is the Lady of Casterly Rock. Her father still made the mistake of marrying her to Emmon Frey. As he gave her four Frey sons, Genna adopted her bastard niece, Joy Hill, and raises her as her daughter and heiress. There has been bad blood between Lannister and Frey ever since.**

**Hoster Tully is the Lord of the Riverlands and Catelyn is his heiress.**

**Janna Tyrell is the Lady of Highgarden. She's married to Baelor Hightower and they have four children: Willas, Garlan, Loras and Margaery.**

**King Robert Baratheon sits the Iron Throne, with Princess Myrcella as his heiress. Dragonstone will go to Prince Joffrey when he comes of age.**

**For the Stormlands and Dorne, there is no change from canon.**


	5. There is no Battle of the Fords

**Edmure obeys his King and the Battle of the Fords doesn't happen**

It was a dismal escort that sent Lord Hoster Tully on his last voyage. Most of the Riverlords were off in the West, fighting with Robb.

Catelyn closed her eyes as she thought of her son. _He should have been there to see his grandfather off. Brynden too. _

Edmure had not managed to set his father's funeral boat afire. _Brynden would not have missed. _It was an uncharitable thought, born from her frustration towards her brother. Edmure told her little of the happenings outside the walls of Riverrun. _Robb took a small wound taking the Crag but he has fully healed and is leading his army again. Robb is crushing the Lannisters in the West. _

Edmure was willing enough to talk to her about Robb's victories; yet, he stayed silent about the Freys' departure from Riverrun. _Edmure hasn't forgiven me from stealing Jaime Lannister from under his nose, from ridiculing him before his King. But Robb will. __He must forgive me; Arya and Sansa are as much his blood as mine. He will free me from these rooms and then I will know what has happened_.

The rivers were overflowing with rain when her son finally returned from the Westerlands. Catelyn expected to receive the King's judgment in the Great Hall, before all the Lords of the North and the Riverlands. Instead, Robb summoned her to her father's solar. _No, Edmure's solar now. _

The room was empty except for Robb, Edmure and the Blackfish. Her uncle embraced Catelyn first and she could not help smiling when she saw his craggy face. It felt strange, somehow. _I have been too long in grief and my face has lost the way of smiles._

"Mother."

"Robb. I have prayed for your safe return. I have heard great tidings of your victories."

"Our victories have been great indeed. The Lannisters have broken and I have taken Tywin Lannister captive."

Her son looked the King now but there was still a hint of boyish enthusiasm in his eyes as he told her the news. _He has forgiven me, because we now have the father instead of the son. We hold the Lord of the Westerlands, Joffrey's Hand of the King and our foes' most dangerous battle commander captive._

"What do you plan to do with him?"

"I've already dealt with him. Lord Karstark beheaded him half a moon's turn ago."

Catelyn couldn't retain a small cry of pain at the betrayal.

"What you've done means your sisters' death!"

The Blackfish led her to a seat and told her gently:

"Sansa's no longer in King's Landing, Cat. They sent her to Highgarden to marry Mace Tyrell's heir, Willas."

Catelyn's first thought was, _No, that cannot be, she's only a child_. Sansa probably had her first flowering in King's Landing. _And I missed it, as I will miss her wedding._

She racked her brain from information about Willas Tyrell. He was older than Sansa by ten years, and a cripple, but he was also said to be studious and kind. _If the gods are good, he will treat her gently. Perhaps she could even grow to be happy in her marriage, as I was with Ned._

She wet her lips and said carefully:

"What about Arya?"

Robb's face fell.

"There is still no news of Arya. I doubt she's in King's Landing but, even if she was, the Tyrells wouldn't kill her. Tywin Lannister is nothing to them. To Cersei Lannister and her mad son, yes, but their power is only nominal. King's Landing has gone from a lion den to a rose bush. The Tyrells' host hold the city. They have the smallfolk eating out of their hands. Joffrey is nothing more than a mummer's king now."

"The Lannisters still have power in the West and you have earned their bitter hatred by killing Tywin. There can no peace with them now."

Robb's eyes grew hard.

"Nor can there be peace. They _killed_ Father. When you freed the Kingslayer," Catelyn took a deep breath. She knew the accusation was bound to come but that didn't make it any less painful, "we almost lost the Karstarks. Lord Rickard was furious. He only stayed because I allowed him to enact his revenge on the Kingslayer's father. And wasn't that_ just_? Rickard Karstark chose me for his King and fought for me loyally. His sons _died_ for me in the Whispering Wood. If I must earn the Lannister's hatred for keeping the Karstark's friendship, so be it. The way I see it, Tywin Lannister's head can earn me more friends than enemies."

"Doran Martell", interjected the Blackfish. "Everyone knows that Tywin was behind the murders of Elia and her children. The Prince of Dorne will be pleased to receive his head."

"Dorne lies further south and it is to the North you must look."

Robb's cheeks colored and, for a fleeting moment, Catelyn saw nothing but the small boy that had begged his mother's forgiveness after doing some mischief. She listened attentively as he told her of his marriage with Jeyne Westerling. There was only one way to win the Freys back, and it was for Edmure to wed a Frey girl.

Edmure protested bitterly, of course. He had held Riverrun for his King, served him faithfully. How could he be forced to marry some girl who would probably be fat, weasely-looking or pox-faced? It took some sharp words from the Blackfish and a royal order from Robb to make him see reason.

After his brother finally gave his agreement to the match, Catelyn excused herself and went to meet her new daughter. Jeyne Westerling was a pretty girl, with chestnut curls and a shy smile. _And good childbearing hips, thanks the Seven._ She seemed dutiful and sweet but Catelyn hoped she was more than that._ She's the Queen in the North and her husband's most difficult battle lies ahead of him still. She must be strong as well as sweet. _

As they sat sewing next to each other, Jeyne whispered to her:

"I haven't told anyone except my mother, not even Robb, but... my moon blood is two weeks late."

Catelyn looked up from her needle and threads.

"Are you usually late?"

"No more than a few days, my lady. Do you think I am with child?"

"You could be," said Catelyn and these three little words seemed so momentous. _Bran and Rickon are gone and the girls are lost to me but perhaps I will soon hold Robb's child in my arms._

"I pray every night to our Mother above for twin boys," Jeyne chattered happily. "I would name them Eddard and Brandon. If it's a girl, perhaps we could honor your family, my lady. Your mother was named Minisa, wasn't she?"

Catelyn looked at her gooddaughter with a new fondness.

"She was, Your Grace. And you must call me Catelyn."

"Only if you call me Jeyne," replied the girl with a smile.

_Minisa Stark. It is a good name. If Ned and I had had another girl, perhaps I would have named her Minisa. _Her husband's death was still a bleeding wound in Catelyn's heart, through the flow of blood had slowed down to a trickle.

Jeyne Westerling's moon blood did not come and Walder Frey sent his son Perwyn to treat with Robb. Catelyn saw it as a good sign. Ser Perwyn was one of the most decent Freys and he had protected Robb during the Whispering Wood. _The old man is ready to make peace, though he will still require an abject apology from Robb. _

Thus, Catelyn found herself at the Twins, enjoying Walder Frey's dubious hospitality. The food and music were atrocious and Lord Frey seemed determined to slight Robb each time he opened his mouth. _The petty revenge of a petty man. _

At least, everyone besides the Late Lord Frey seemed to be enjoying themselves. Freys and Northmen alike were dancing and playing drinking games. Robb asked Olyvar Frey to squire for him again and the boy accepted with a pleased smile and a barely-disguised look of hero-worship. As for her brother and his bride, they spent the entire feast exchanging shy smiles and bashful glances. _You would never guess Edmure complained of Roslin all the way from Riverrun to the Twins_. _I wish you well, brother_, thought Catelyn with a small smile.

Soon, they were calling for the bedding and most guests left the Hall, following either man or maid and shouting bawdy cheers. Only Robb and his guards remained, with a few Freys that were too drunk to move and Lord Walder, of course.

The musicians started playing "The Rains of Castamere". Catelyn's heart jumped in her chest before she understood they played it to_ honor_ Robb. _He killed Tywin Lannister._ _He brought down the mighty Lord that crushed the Reynes and Tarbecks. _

She looked at the Lord of the Crossing's wrinkled frace and saw hatred there, but also fear. _I was wrong, son, and you were right to kill Lord Tywin. If you hadn't, we might have received a knife in the back instead of Lord Frey's fealty._

There was a commotion at the door and Catelyn still feared some treachery. However, it was only a beleaguered guardsman in the grey and blue of House Frey.

"I beg your pardon, my lords, my ladies, but there is a man at the door who says he wants to ransom Arya Stark to her brother. We tried to arrest him but he is a fierce fighter. He almost cut one of our men to pieces."

Now, Catelyn thought her heart had really stopped in her chest.

"Let him in," said Robb before Walder Frey could place a word.

The man who brutally pushed the guard out his way and entered the Hall was Sandor Clegane. There was no mistaking that burnt face. The child who shadowed his steps was small and dirty. Her dark hair was short and spiked, as if they had been hastily cut with a blade. But Arya's eyes – _Ned's eyes – _had not changed. They were still the same as when she had last seen her daughter, a lifetime ago in Winterfell.

"Mother," Arya cried out before lauching herself into Catelyn's arms. "Robb."

There were tears on her dirt-stained face.

"Arya," her son said, wonder and disbelief in his voice. "We thought you dead!"

"She is not, thanks to me," said Sandor Clegane. "Now, you can give me a fat purse of gold for your little she-wolf."

Robb looked him with disgust.

"I should have head. But, since you gave Arya back to us, honor forbids me to take it. Instead, I think I will fit you for a new leash. I will make use of every man I have to retake the North."

"Are we going home, mother?" asked Arya. Her voice was muffled as her face was still buried into Catelyn's dress.

_We are going to Seagard. Your brother hasn't taken our home back yet. _Yet, with the daughter whose death she had dreaded alive and well in her arms, it was easier to hope than before. So Catelyn smiled and said to her daughter:

"Soon, sweetling. Soon."

* * *

**In this fic, Tywin was not delayed by the Battle of the Fords, took Robb's bait and was trapped in the Westerlands. After several off-screen battles, Robb managed to crush the Lannister host and capture Tywin. I hope you don't find that too unrealistic. But Robb was said to be brilliant in the field and he had Brynden Tully to help him.**

**When she saw Robb had defeated Tywin, Sybell Spycer promptly forgot "the arrangement" and gave her daughter a real fertility booster instead of a contraceptive. Walder Frey is as much cowardly as he is odious and he did not dare plan the Red Wedding without the support of Tywin and the Iron Throne. As for Roose Bolton, he is a prudent man who preys on weakness so he hasn't backstabbed Robb... though he may do so in the future.**

**Robb has survived his uncle's wedding but he's going to have his work cut out for him. There are Ironmen in the North, wildlings and White Walkers at the Wall and Ramsay Snow is still running around. He hasn't burnt Winterfell in this fic (because there was no secret Lannister/Frey/Bolton plot) but he is very much of a menace.**

**I kept the Battle of Blackwater as a defeat for Stannis. The Tyrells alone had a great host and many of Stannis' men died because of the wildfire. It was a narrow victory for the Tyrells but still a victory. More importantly, without Tywin and his men there, they are the sole power in King's Landing.**

**I know the pacing is just wrong and Arya and Sandor should have arrived way earlier but I did it for the symbolism. You may imagine Sandor and Arya having awesome off-screen adventures to explain their late arrival.**


End file.
